


Inbetween

by ImStillHere



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Post 4x07, pre 4x08
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImStillHere/pseuds/ImStillHere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian was dreaming.<br/>And it was a good dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inbetween

**Author's Note:**

> Since the episodes aired, I've always imagined what happened between 4x07 and 4x08. Like, how did Ian end up on the floor? When did he get his stuff? What made him come back? This is my attempt at answering those questions :)

Ian was dreaming.  
And it was a good dream.

Ever since he left the Army and started working at the Fairy Tale, his dreams would always be random and blurred and really bright with vivid colors (most likely a result of the dance floor and ‘party favor’ combination). 

Not tonight, though. Tonight, everything was vibrant – but defined, like it was really happening – though the beginning started out the same. 

He was cold and saw visions of intense blue. But the blue started getting hot, and with that, a sense of comfort came over him. The blue started to take shape this time, and he realized it was the ocean; the warmth a result of the sun and hot wind blowing around him. 

He continued to bask in the warmth. Staring out at the clear, blue water, he tried to not think of how he got to the Caribbean (that’s where he assumed he was, based on the color of the water). Since if that were actually the case, he would have to try and figure out whom he was there with. Probably one of the old creeps from the club, bringing him along as a pool boy of sorts. He was interrupted from his thoughts by a voice calling out to him.

“Hey – Hey, Ian! You gonna move or am I gonna have to carry you??”

The voice sounded far away, a mixture of annoyance and affection.

With that he turned his head, and got lost in another vision of intense blue.

Mickey Milkovich was walking towards him, and he couldn’t look away. A shiver traced down his spine as nerves and adrenaline kicked in.

Mikey smirked, and, pointing to the restaurant Ian just noticed at the top of the beach, said, “C’mon.” Ian smiled back and got up, though he stumbled a bit over his feet. When he turned around, Mickey was already gone. 

As Ian made his way up the beach, his feet felt heavy in the sand. Ian started thinking about where they were (a resort?) and why (on vacation? a scam?), but he was distracted by these thoughts as he soon realized he had made his way to the restaurant.

He caught sight of Mickey at a table for two by the bar. As Ian sat down across from Mickey, he again felt a sense of warmth and comfort fall over him.

“I’ve missed you,” Mickey said, with a sincere expression and Ian couldn’t keep from breaking out into his shit-eating grin. Mickey laughed and shook his head, but continued on saying, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Ian wanted to say something similar, but thought it might ruin Mickey’s moment (plus his mouth felt dry and seemed like it would be difficult to speak), so he opted for holding Mickey’s hand over the table. Their food soon arrived; Mickey must have ordered while Ian was walking up from the beach. 

They sat in relative silence, enjoying each other’s company, making insignificant comments here or there. For the most part, though, Ian just took in the sight that was Mickey. Whether it was the location or just the atmosphere, Mickey had a relaxed and confident feel that Ian imagined he deemed too dangerous for the South Side. He was laughing and smiling easily, which Ian found himself doing as well. Ian felt like he was seeing Mickey for the first time, or at least the first time in a long while (which seemed odd because he was starting to feel like they’d been staying at the island for awhile). As Ian was thinking about this, Mickey signed the bill, got up, and took Ian’s hand to walk back to their place on the beach.

On the walk back, there was a bit of roughhousing, as was their nature, which led to a bit of kissing under the palm trees, which was also their nature, albeit a new addition. They finally made it back to their area, Mickey picking up his book as he sat down. Ian curled up in his beach chair, facing the best view he saw: Mickey. As he sat there taking in the sights, Mickey felt eyes on him, turning to see Ian staring back. “The fuck you looking at?” Mickey said smiling, no venom behind his words. 

“Nothing,” Ian said, a bit more to himself, smiling back.

Mickey, with his perfect smirk, rubbed his thumb over his lip and said, "Whatever you say, Mumbles. Why don't you get some rest – we got a busy night ahead of us," raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Ian contentedly did as he was told and closed his eyes. He soon felt it get a little colder, but figured Mickey must have gotten an umbrella to keep him from burning. As he rolled over, he realized he was no longer on a chair, but rather in a bed.

Opening his eyes, he found himself no longer admiring the view of Mickey Milkovich, but rather of a familiar looking wall.

Ian quickly reasoned that he was being Inception-ed or had immediately started a new dream, because there was no way he was actually in the Milkovich house sleeping in Mickey’s bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been enjoying everyone else's works for the past few months, helping me get through the too-long hiatus, and decided I needed to get a few of my own ideas written and shared before Season 5 starts :) This is my first attempt at fan fiction, so let me know what you think!


End file.
